Ambulance
by Pink Lychee
Summary: Mello regrets that his involvement with the mafia got Matt killed. While out driving to help clear his head, Mello loses control of the vehicle and goes unconscious. The first person he sees when he opens his eyes is Near. Mello/Near
1. The White Angel

**INFORMATION**

**Disclaimer:** _Death Note_ belongs to Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi.

**Synopsis:** Mello regrets that his involvement with the mafia has gotten his only friend, Matt, killed. One night, while out driving to help clear his head, Mello loses control of the vehicle and goes unconscious. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is a familiar white shape.

**Pairing:** Mello/Near

* * *

**Ambulance**

* * *

**The White Angel**

_Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal_

_Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel_

_My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up_

_And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white_

- Thrice

Nothing seemed to be going as planned. His friend was not supposed to die. Mello had not intended for Matt to die. Their last operation, without a doubt, ended in disaster. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white under the black leather gloves. Perhaps getting Matt involved in the mafia wasn't the most ideal choice after all. The race for Kira was over, ending in a draw. Neither one of L's successors had captured the mass murderer on his own.

The race, from start to finished, had been between him and Near. Matt had nothing to do with it and yet Mello still managed to drag his only friend into a messed up situation that costed him his life. He stepped harder on the gas pedal and his vehicle accelerated down the street, the engine roaring. If there was one thing he was glad for now, it was that the streets were always deserted at this time of the night. Feeling the fast movements of the car allowed Mello to release his anger, frustration, disappointment, and regrets.

Mello wondered if his life had any other possible paths. Unlike the road ahead of him that seemed to have the ability to stretch on for miles, his path had reached an end. The asphalt that his car was speeding down was able to go on, able to merge with other roads; the street was endless. It was too late for regrets, he knew, but somehow it was just difficult to—

A blinding light burned Mello's eyes and for a split second. He saw the outlines of what seemed to be another vehicle dead ahead of his. Mello hastily stomped on the breaks. Tires squealing, ripping loudly through the silent night, leaving black tire tracks on the asphalt.

But it wasn't enough. The other car screeched and swayed but was still coming in closer. Mello gripped the steering wheel and turned it with force in desperate attempt to avoid the approaching vehicle.

There was an earsplitting, explosive crash. It was gone as quick as it came.

Complete darkness.

* * *

"Wait a moment!

"I know this…"

"Are you sure—"

"Call an ambulance, now."

"Y-Yes, of course."

* * *

The first thing Mello saw when he opened his eyes only a slit was the dim street lights illuminating a dark red oozing substances that was dripping down the deflated air bag of the car. What he smelt was a sort a burning mixed with motor oil and gasoline. There was a warm, metallic liquid in his mouth and on his lips. He finally became aware of the immense amount of pain that was gripping his body. He felt burning, stinging, and aching all at once. Mello gasped at the cold night's air and breathed in the lingering aftertaste of smoke and gas. He heard light footsteps approaching.

"Mello," a familiar, soft voice breathed. "I was right."

The blond parted his lips and tried to speak but the only thing that escaped from him was a short, inward gasp. Mello felt a strong pair of arms coming around him and he was pried away from the heap of metal that was probably once his car. His back was settled down gently on the chilly ground and he heard someone shuffling towards him again. His eyes opened slightly and were greeted by a body in white, from head to foot. The entity was shrouded in fluorescent white.

Mello tried to speak again but he only managed a soft groan.

"Mello," the figure next to him said.

He felt warm fingers touch his forehead lightly. This touch was truly different from the one before, the one that had pulled him away from the wreckage.

"You…" Mello finally whispered. He blinked slowly a couple of times, letting his eyes become accustomed to the stinging brightness around him. The person before him began to take shape. A young boy. Maybe not so young. White. Soft to the touch. Why did that all seem so familiar?

Matt? No… Matt was gone. Matt was dead because of him. Mello started to wonder if he, too, was a dead man, but the pain in his body reminded him that he was still very much alive. Perhaps dying, but alive. This person before him, it couldn't be his friend. Matt wasn't of this world anymore. So who…?

Suddenly new sounds began to erupt. There were loud sirens growing louder and louder. Mello sucked in more of the cool air to try and ease the pain all around his body. His eyes began to blur and the image of the angelic figure before him began to fade. Mello's lips parted, shivering. He lifted a shaking hand; straining while he felt a strange weight in his limb. Mello wanted to reach for the person before him.

_Don't leave_, Mello cried out mentally. But his vision still failed him. His sight was blurring even more. The person before him was disappearing. All he could see now were blotches of colors and light and dark shapes.

Then he felt a soft pair of hands clasped around his lingering fingers. It was gentle, but it was firm. With that, Mello allowed his eyes to close. He moved his finger slightly, making sure that the other hands were still on his. Mello breath out in shallow breathes. He started to hear more footsteps and they were coming nearer.

Again, he felt hands lifting him up and away from those soft hands. He could no longer feel those soft hands.

_No!_ Mello protested in his mind.

He wanted to search for that person again, that person in white, those comforting touches. But the pain restrained him from moving anymore. He could no longer open his eyes. Something cold was pressed over his nose and mouth and the air he was breathing in became pure in contrast with the smoke and gasoline fumes. Mello gave into the new arms that were lifting him, carrying him away from the only thing he wanted more than death at that point. They carried him away from the angel that had saved him.

* * *

"Please, sir," the nurse pleaded. "Visiting hours are over now. We have to let the patients get their sleep."

"It will only be for a moment," said the young man with white hair. "I won't wake him." He was standing before the nurse with three of his people standing behind him. There were clean bandages that covered his arms, wrists, forehead, and cheek.

"But even if that's the case, only immediate family members are allowed in the ICU."

"I won't be long," Near repeated. "And he doesn't have a family. I'm the closest he has to that."

The nurse looked at him with questioning eyes for a short moment. She then gave a small sigh, nodded, and stepped out of the way for him.

"Thank you," Near said. He looked back at Rester, Gevanni, and Lidner and they too, nodded at him reassuringly.

With that, he walked into the ICU, closing the door behind him. He padded towards the body lying in the hospital bed, hooked unto IVs and covered with a white blanket. Near stood beside the bed and watched the blond sleep soundlessly.

It was hard for him to believe that _this_ was Mello. The Mello that Near had grown up with was stronger. He was rarely sick and was always moving about, playing sports with the other children, reading and writing, solving problems, and more recently, running criminal missions with the mafia. Near never expected to see Mello in this pathetic and saddened state. Near pitied him, but he also felt troubled—worried. He had an uncomfortable feeling as he gazed at Mello lying on the hospital bed.

The IVs were feeding him with various medical liquids. The slow beeping sounds of the heart monitor tracking Mello's heartbeats were the only noises in the room. His breathing was regular now, stable and easy. An oxygen mask was covering his nose and mouth. It was made Near's stomach churn. This could have been entirely his fault. At the time of the car accident, everything happened too quickly for him register what really happened. Whether it was his fault or Mello's, he didn't know.

However, one thing was clear, and that was Mello had taken the majority of the damage. The front of his vehicle had slammed straight into the side of the back of Gevanni's car. Near and Gevanni were the only ones in the vessel at the time and both suffered minor cuts and bruises.

"Mello," Near said quietly. He stepped closer towards the young man's bed and reached over the metal bar on the side of the bed. "You really never change." Near slipped his hand under that white blankets and found Mello's hand. It was cold and limp but Near held it gently, just like he did after Mello was pulled out of the wreckage.

"You're reckless," Near continued, looking into Mello's sleeping face. "You act too quickly. You act on your emotional impulses alone."

He tightened his grip on Mello's hand a little. Then Near felt a smirk forming on his lips.

"They say that people can still retrain their auditory abilities even when they're sleeping or in a coma," he said. He leaned in closer towards Mello until he was only an inch away from his ear. "You better not die, Mello, not like Matt. I don't want you to die."

Near couldn't deny that it felt good to be with Mello like this again, without guns or threats, without cases or challenges. Near brushed his thumb back and forth on Mello's rough knuckles. Why couldn't things be like this whenever they were together? Wouldn't it be easier on everyone if Mello had just listened to Roger and worked with Near? The Kira case had proved Roger's point. In the end, neither of them won the Race for Kira. They needed each other to solve the case that even the great L could not. Near took his hand away from Mello's and lightly touched the blond locks of his hair.

_If only you would realize,_ Near thought. _If only you didn't have that superiority complex._ The white-haired boy hesitated, and carefully thought to himself for a moment. Then he breathed out a long, silent sigh. Near wanted to let his feelings be acknowledged by Mello. He didn't want to hold it in anymore. Mello had been stubborn long enough, and look where that had led him. It was now or never.

"I don't hate you, Mello," Near whispered into his ear once more. "You created that hate on your own. I wish you would understand that."

That was enough. Near assumed that Mello would understand, if he had heard any of it at all. Aside from that, there was nothing else to say. Near always had a difficult time conveying his emotions, so he decided that keeping things simple and steadfast would be best.

Near pulled back his hand and he felt a strange urge inside of him. He even blushed to himself, not ready to leave Mello's side, but his visit had already been long enough. He swallowed and took in a breath. Leaning over the metal bar of the hospital bed, Near lightly kissed Mello on the forehead. With that, he ended his visit, hoping that there was a chance that Mello had heard his words.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I hoped you enjoyed reading that! This is my first time posting a _Death Note_ fanfic. I've had this little plot bunny for a while now and I finally got around to writing it. I absolutely adorable Mello and Near together. Also, I know that Mello drives a motorcycle but you can take it as him riding Matt's car I guess. (The original plotline is altered just a bit.)

This fanfic is based on "The Artist in the Ambulance," a song by the band Thrice. You can check them out if you'd like to. I think the song is just great and the lyrics really fit into Mello's life so I decided to write this story around that. Well anyways, I hope you enjoyed and I hope you'll review!

I'm not sure if I want to keep writing because I'm still a bit worried that Mello will be out of character if he wakes up and sees Near again. I'm still debating that. If you have suggestions or comments, please feel free to let me know. Thanks for reading!


	2. Facing You Again

**Ambulance**

* * *

**Facing You Again**

_Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger_

_And I realize that empty words are not enough_

_I'm left here with the question of just_

_What have I to show except the promises I never kept?_

_-_ Thrice

When Mello finally opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the soft bed that he was lying on and the thick blanket that was covering his body. He slowly came to a realization that he had been hospitalized. His first inquiry, however, was, _Why?_ Then he remembered his car, the ride, the crush, the lights, the white figure… Those people that had taken him away from that person must have been the paramedics. He did not know how bad his injuries must have been but he could still feel some pain around his body and his arms and legs were heavy. He tried to move his upper torso and groaned at the soreness in his muscles, shutting his eyes before letting out a long sigh.

"You're alive," a familiar voice said.

Mello turned toward the person who spoke, his eyes nearly widened in surprise.

Near.

His rival was sitting on a stool beside his hospital bed watching him with that unchanging blank expression.

"Near," Mello finally said. The oxygen mask on his face made speaking feel strange. His mouth felt dry and his voice sounded horse, but he could speak again. "What… what are you doing here?"

"You crashed into Gevanni's car last night," Near said flatly. "Do you remember anything?"

Mello shook his head slowly to avoid any more abrupt discomfort.

"Not much," he grumbled.

"I didn't think you would," Near replied. "You were almost completely unconscious when Gevanni got you out of that car."

Mello gazed at Near's face closely and noticed the white bandages that were plastered on his forehead and cheek. His eyes moved down towards the other boy's arms and found the light of the afternoon sun glowing on more bandages neatly wrapped around them. Even though he had received most of the damage from the crash, it appeared that Near had been injured too. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed and tore his eyes away from the white-haired boy. Knowing the fact that those injuries had been because of his carelessness made him uneasy somehow.

"Mello," Near said.

The blond did not turn towards him. He just continued to stare at the white ceiling of the hospital room.

"What?" Mello asked.

"You didn't die," Near said.

Mello raised an eyebrow. He still did not turned towards the other boy. "Would you have liked me to die?"

"No," Near said. "I didn't mean that."

_No…?_ Mello thought. His rival's words shocked him. Had they not always been pitted bitterly against each other? The two of them stopped talking. The monitor was still beeping in tune with the beats of Mello's heart. It offered a sort of quiet noise to ease the tense silence between them. Mello waited, wondering if Near had anything else to say. A few more moments passed and neither of them said a word. Mello cleared his throat.

"Matt's dead," he said suddenly. It was better than not saying anything. Near grew up with him too, he did have the right to know.

"I know," Near answered, unsurprised.

Mello's eyes widened a little. "How?"

"Even information from the mafia sometimes leaks," Near said coolly.

"It was my fault," Mello continued. He couldn't seem to stop himself, as if the words were just flowing from his lips on their own. He had tried to release his anger and bury his regrets before but that didn't work out as he wanted. Nothing seemed to be going as he wanted.

"Because of Kira," the blond murmured. "Because I wanted to beat you, I killed him."

Near didn't answer him. He only sat still and listened.

"He didn't deserve to die the way that he did." Mello started to feel a lump forming in his throat. "He had nothing to do with the chase—it was between me and you. And yet… I dragged him into that shithole."

"If you keep blaming yourself," Near finally said. "You're not going to accomplish anything. Matt isn't going to come back. Living in your own regrets is pathetic."

"You always piss me off," Mello growled. "With the way you talk."

"Sorry, I'm not the one living in the past because the future holds nothing."

Mello's hands balled into fists, even through the pain, he endured it. Hot anger was flooding his blood.

"Am I right, Mello?" Near asked, as if he was trying to push Mello's limits.

Mello was silent, leaving Near to continue.

"As of right now, you're a wanted criminal not only here in Japan but also in the United States. As for your fellow mafia members, they're all gone without a trace. So what are you going to do now?"

Again, there was only silence while a few short moments passed.

"I'm starting to wonder," Mello finally said. "If that crash should have killed me."

Near gave a short sigh. "Your death isn't going to help anyone. L is gone. Matt is gone. I don't think Wammy's needs to lose another—especially their second ranked."

Mello couldn't suppress a low growl at the last comment. It was quite unnecessary.

"Mello," Near said, softly. "Come back to Wammy's House."

"What?" the blond hissed. "Go back…tch. I doubt that Roger will even let me through the gates let alone permit me back into the house."

Near shrugged. "I'm sure he would and…"

The blond raised his eyebrow and glanced at the boy next to him, waiting for him to finish his lingering statement. He anticipated but heard only the beeps and hums of the hospital machines. He saw Near bite his lower lip slightly, as if trying to hold back his words. Just as he started to turn his face away, the boy spoke again.

"I want you to come back."

There was no immediate answer to Near's confession. The bed sheets rustled as Mello moved himself into a sitting position and removed the oxygen mask from his face. "Shut up, Near."

"I'm not lying," Near returned. "I want you to come back."

"Why?" Mello asked darkly, his eyes narrowing. "We're nothing but bitter rivals."

"That's where you're wrong," Near countered. "I don't see you as my rival. I never did. You don't remember that time when Roger asked us to team up on the Kira case?"

Mello fell silent and watched Near's unchanging, blank composure. For the first time, he noticed the dark rings around the boy's eyes, hinting that he hadn't had much sleep. Had Near actually been sitting next to him the entire night? No… the nurses wouldn't have allowed that. Mello looked harder at the boy he had grown up with. His emotions never showed but his eyes… they were—dare he say it—sincere. Maybe Near was telling the truth, about his desire for Mello to come back.

"You don't hate me," Mello said, more of a statement than a question.

Near shook his head.

"You really want me to come back."

He nodded.

Mello smirked at the white-haired boy. "Prove it."

"You never change," Near sighed. "But if that's all it takes."

Near stepped soundlessly off the stool in order to move closer to Mello's hospital bed. Mello gazed at him cautiously as Near came closer and carefully placed his hands on the blond's shoulders. Mello didn't back away but he nearly jumped in surprise when he felt Near's warm lips make contact with his. It was only for a split second, but Mello grabbed Near by the elbows and shoved him away, trying his best to ignore the pain that shot through his body by the move.

"Okay," Mello murmured, wincing. "You made your point."

The two stared at each other for a short time until Mello realized that his hands were still gripping Near's elbows. He released the boy and sank back into the pillows, allowing Near to resume his place on the stool.

Mello let out a sigh, as if in relief.

* * *

The ride to Tokyo International Airport was silent. Gevanni drove as usually, with Near and Mello in the backseat while Rester and Linder had taken a separate car. Mello rested his chin on the palm of his hand while his watched the scenery outside the window. He still had an uncomfortable feeling about going back to Wammy's House but it was too late now to change his mind. And aside from that, as much as it infuriated him, Near was right; he had nowhere to go now. He was nothing more than a wanted criminal, without a friend and without a purpose. Going back to Wammy's might have been inevitable after all.

Near sat in his regular but unusual position next to Mello, fiddling with one of his toy robots in his lap. Mello refrained himself from shaking his head but he smirked to himself at the sight of Near. It was hard to believe he was actually eighteen. The blond turned his attention once again to the traffic on the other side of the window. Many more hours and they would be back in England again.

Suddenly, Mello's reminiscing was interrupted as he felt a something warm touch his hand that had been resting on the leather seat. His eyes widened, realizing that Near had somehow slipped his hand and intertwined it with his. And, judging by the slight redness on the pale boy's cheeks and nose, he had done it sheepishly too. Mello looked straight ahead, but he returned Near's touch with a light grip.

Near didn't hate him, Mello figured. So perhaps he could try not to hate Near either.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Thank you for all the reviews and encouragement! I did decide to write another chapter after all. So Mello wasn't too OOC, right? Haha. I hope not. The ending was a little too fluffy, I think, but I liked it that way. Thanks for reading!


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